


apples and honey

by musicspeakstoo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Jewish Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:32:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicspeakstoo/pseuds/musicspeakstoo
Summary: Stiles tries to uphold the traditions of his mother, but chasing after werewolves makes it hard. Scott wants to make it easier.





	apples and honey

**Author's Note:**

> In my defense, I watched teen wolf in order to read fic and just walked out wanting different people to kiss. Also, this is at least a week late and both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur have passed but I really wanted to write something so here. I only watched til the end of s3 so this ignores everything after that but keeps Erica and Boyd alive because I want them to be alive. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Stiles’s mom was the real religious one. She loved being Jewish, took pride in teaching him the traditions passed down from generation to generation, and she always took Stiles to High Holidays services, even if he couldn’t sit through them. After she died, he became determined to uphold the same traditions she once loved and he does a good job of it, despite the ever-shifting dates and different month names of the Jewish calendar. And then, werewolves.

Despite the fact that both things run according to the moon (and how important these holidays are), he still forgets the first couple years. It’s hard to keep track of mundane things like the date when you’re battling supernatural forces and trying to stop your best friend from sprouting claws during lacrosse practice. Add to all of that trying to combat attraction to said best friend, recent befriending of antisocial grouch, a newfound friendship with his longtime crush, and a resurrected psychopath and it’s not surprising that for the third year in a row, Rosh Hashanah sneaks up on him.

In fact, he totally forgets about it. In his defense, there’s something in Beacon Hills that they don’t have a positive ID on yet but has gone after all of them one-by-one in broad daylight. So they’re all holed up in Derek’s loft together (though why they’re not at either his or Scott’s house, he doesn’t know) when the storm that’s been coming in all week breaks and suddenly the power’s out.

“It’s October!” Stiles yells, “These storms aren’t supposed to happen in the fall.”

Derek gives him a ‘shut up or I’ll get my claws out’ look that doesn’t really work on Stiles anymore except, of course, in this case where it’s backed up by three other werewolves giving him the exact same look. Because Scott’s a good Alpha, and a good person in general, he immediately volunteers to set up some candles around the place so the humans have something to see by (there are always candles in everyone’s places because life-saving magic more often than not requires candles) and Allison volunteers to help him. Stiles ignores the pang of jealousy that he feels seeing them walk off together. They’re over, and Allison was never really an obstacle anyway.

Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Derek are curled up on the couches, aggressively pretending that they’re not cuddling. Scott is over there with them and Stiles tries not to seem envious. Peter hasn’t been seen for a couple days and Stiles will worry about that later. Allison is on the phone with her dad, checking in to see how research is going. Lydia is sitting by herself in a corner and a year ago he’d go over, try to keep her company but he’s cold and building himself into quite the self-pity party and Lydia doesn’t need that.

He’s kind of dozing off, and he _definitely_ can hear Boyd snoring when a candle is plopped down in front of him, along with Scott holding a plate.

“Wow a candle _and_ food, I must be a lucky guy,” Stiles says, mostly to cover up how he’s more warmed by Scott’s company than the candle.

Scott smiles kind of shyly at him. It’s his ‘I’m going to do something that I think is cheesy but in reality is just me being an awesome friend’ smile. 

He holds out the plate and there’s a bunch of apple slices and a huge glob of honey in the middle. Stiles stares at it, blinking.

“They’re apples and honey. Y’know, for the Jewish new year thing.”

“Rosh Hashanah,” Stiles says absently.

His brain is broken. He’s also sure that he’s melting, his face feels hot enough for that to be a possibility. Their whole friendship is a lot of Scott doing nice things for him but this beats them all.

“You did this for me?” he can barely speak past the lump in his throat.

“Well, yeah, dude,” Scott replies, “I remember you saying that it’s a pretty important holiday but I know our lives have been kind of crazy these past couple years and you haven’t really celebrated it, so. I figured I’d make it up to you the only way I know how.”

Stiles is really glad that everyone else is asleep by now because he’s definitely tearing up as he says, “Thanks, Scott. It means a lot to me.”

Stiles can’t read the expression on Scott’s face, so instead he dips an apple wedge in honey and offers it to Scott before eating one himself. His lips automatically pull up into a smile at the taste. He can still hear his mom’s voice telling him about the traditional food eaten on Rosh Hashanah. They’ve made it about halfway through the plate (Scott must’ve cut up at least two apples) in silence when Scott speaks.

“Remind me again why you guys eat apples and honey.”

Him and Scott, always on the same wavelength. They’ve lowered their voices in deference to the sleeping people around them (especially the werewolves) and sometime during the course of the apple eating, Scott had scooted closer and he had turned, like he always does, in Scott’s direction so now there’s only a little room between them where Scott had put the candle. It feels more like he’s imparting a deep, dark secret than something that can easily be found via Google.

“It’s so we have a good and sweet new year,” Stiles replies.

He can’t hear his mom’s voice this time, Scott’s too close, he blocks everything out. There’s a reason Scott was always able to handle his panic attacks better than everyone. Scott licks his lips and Stiles holds back the noise he can feel rising in his throat. It would sound too much like longing.

“And you guys don’t kiss or anything like at regular new year's, right?” Scott asks.

Stiles shakes his head, “Nah, it’s not a thing.”

Before he can ask why, Scott says, “Well that’s a shame” and then kisses him.

Stiles takes barely a second to process before he’s surging up and kissing Scott back. He’s cupping Scott’s face with one hand and the other is gripping Scott’s shoulder tightly. Lightning flashes just as they part and Stiles thinks _yeah, me too_.

They’re both panting and Scott’s still got his hands planted on the floor to balance himself. They sit there, grinning at each other and Stiles is about to make a crack about Scott being such a fucking cliche, kissing him by candlelight or maybe he’s about to beg Scott to tell him it’s not a joke or maybe he’s about to count his fingers, make sure this is really happening.

Then Scott says, “L’shana tova, Stiles” and Stiles heart bursts, just a little.

He moves the candle out of the way so he can kiss Scott properly. He tastes like honey.


End file.
